The Waiting Room did its work.
Ronan's arm came back first, or he noticed it first. He raised it slowly out to the side, then higher, then all the way over his head, opening and closing the hand, and let it drop.
"Right," he said.
Finn straightened up out of the shape he had been holding for twenty minutes and put a hand where the shoulder wound had been and found skin.
Maeve stopped shaking. James watched her notice it — she held both hands out in front of her, turned them over, and put them down.
James's own ribs stopped hurting. The strain that had been sitting behind his eyes since Death Chain drained out. His mana came back up in one long cool pull.
Cillian flexed his arm.
The wounds had gone. The mana was back; James could see it in the way he stood. He rolled the shoulder, opened the hand, and reached for the conductors.
Nothing happened for about half a second.
